


All Evi...Eva...

by jacketwithpatches



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Other, Warlock dowling - Freeform, Warlock's childhood, brother francis, good omens - Freeform, nanny ashtoreth - Freeform, non romantic good omens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 09:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21426007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacketwithpatches/pseuds/jacketwithpatches
Summary: Warlock Dowling is getting too nice for Nanny Ashtoreth's taste. Brother Francis insists it's not his job to fix that. So Nanny takes things into her own hands, and they go quite well. Kind of.
Relationships: Nanny Ashtoreth & Warlock Dowling, Nanny Ashtoreth/Brother Francis (Good Omens), Warlock Dowling & Brother Francis
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	All Evi...Eva...

**Author's Note:**

> This work is an original work but the idea was taken from a friend in a Discord server. And thank you for the wonderful idea, I'm glad I was able to base a fic off of it!

“Am I doing alright, do you think?” Ashtoreth had asked.  
“Am I supposed to think something else?” Francis had responded.  
“Is he, well, evil enough?”  
“That wasn’t the goal, sister.”  
Ashtoreth contemplated for a moment. Francis was right, it wasn’t the goal. The goal was for Warlock to turn out normal. And right now, at the blossoming age of six years old, he was far too nice for Nanny Ashtoreth’s taste.  
“Correct.” Ashtoreth said, sipping her glass of wine. “So what are we going to do about how nice he’s getting?”  
“I suppose you’ll have to fix that.” Brother Francis responded. “Not my job.”  
And his eyes did that thing. Ashtoreth hated it. They twinkled. It was a fun, jolly twinkle and it happened when Brother Francis either was up to something or wasn’t up to something.  
“I’m supposed to do that how?”  
“Not my job.” Francis said again.  
Ashtoreth sipped her wine. She thought some more. And then she got up.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” She said. Brother Francis was slightly unsettled by the tone of voice she’d used- it suggested something very mischievous. If there was one thing that Brother Francis didn’t want Warlock to be around, it would have to be mischief. It always led to something worse, something more dire and grave.  
“I suppose I will, sister.” Was all Francis said in response. Nanny Ashtoreth clacked away. 

And then it was tomorrow, and Francis did see Nanny Ashtoreth. He saw Nanny Ashtoreth and Warlock, crawling through the garden. Well, Warlock was crawling. Nanny was standing over him, cheering him on as he looked for something. In the forefront of his mind, Francis had one thought. What on God’s green and lush Earth was Warlock looking for? In the back of his mind, there was the other thought, the one he’d had the night before: He hoped that whatever he was looking for, it didn’t involve mischief.  
Nanny Ashtoreth looked across the garden, lowered her sunglasses, and winked. This confirmed every suspicion Francis had been having since the night before. Warlock was looking for something, and Francis didn’t know what that something was, but there was not a single doubt in his mind that it involved mischief. So he went back to gardening. Or rather, doing garden type things. One thing about this garden was that it was in perfect condition, but nobody had even seen Brother Francis really working on it. The mysteries of life.  
Despite how much he gardened, though, Francis couldn’t get his thoughts out of his head. Which was bothersome. The only thing more bothersome, however, was the voice of a six year old Warlock behind him saying, “You’re under awwest,” running up, and tackling him. Well, attempting to tackle him. Tackling him as best a six year old boy could tackle a one hundred and seventy six pound gardener. Which was, to say, not at all.  
“Arrest? Whatever for?” Francis asked, trying his best to gently shake Warlock off his leg.  
“The muwder of Missus Cwab Apple.” Warlock replied.  
“Rrr.” Nanny Ashtoreth corrected. “In the back of your mouth, darling.”  
“Murder? I’m not guilty of any murders.” Francis insisted. “You must always be honest, dear boy.”  
“All evi...eva… Nanny, how does you say it?” Warlock asked.  
“Evidence.” Nanny supplicated.  
“Points to you!” Warlock finished. Nanny shot Francis a look that said, very sharply, ‘play along.’  
“Agh, you’ve caught me.” Brother Francis sighed. “I thought I could get away with it, too.”  
“What now, Nanny?”  
“You kill him, of course. It’s the payment he deserves for murdering Ms. Crab Apple. Revenge is very important, darling.”  
Warlock nodded and folded his hands together in a gun shape.  
“BLAM!” He shouted. Francis toppled over, humoring the boy.  
“Can I have another cookie, Nanny?”  
“Never ask for what you want, Warlock. Simply take it.”  
Francis popped his head up.  
“No, my dear boy, you mustn't listen to her. Asking for what you want is the only way to get it. And you must always consider the needs and wants of others before your own.”  
“Do you want a cookie, Brother Fwancis?” Warlock asked.  
“I suppose I could have a cookie.” 

“Murder?” Brother Francis asked. “He’s six, and you choose murder?”  
“It’s a counteraction. You said that making him less nice wasn’t your job, so I made it mine.” Nanny Ashtoreth replied. “Besides, I prefer to think of it as exacting revenge. Murder isn’t the crux of the matter, it’s tracking down the person who committed it.”  
“So it also details problem solving.”  
“You could say that.”  
Brother Francis took a sip of wine. Nanny Ashtoreth took a sip of wine. Brother Francis sighed. Nanny Ashtoreth smiled.  
“I’ll allow it.” Francis said at last.  
“As if you controlled me in the first place.” Ashtoreth smirked. “And aside from that, it’s not as bad as you’d like to think. We’ve got until his next birthday and then we can leave.”  
“He’s six, sister. We’ve five more years.”  
“You know what I mean. Think of my game like this: it’s a way for me to teach him to take the law into his own hands and to exact revenge! But it also teaches him problem solving skills and that he should, I don’t know, subdue the evils in the world.”  
“I can deal with that.” Brother Francis nodded, finishing off his glass of wine.  
“Then we’ll be seeing you again tomorrow. I think. We might pin the murder of Sir Cucumber onto the butler.” Nanny smiled.  
“What happens if someone decides to cover for him?” Francis asked.  
“I suppose we’ll have to find out.” Nanny replied, sauntering off. For some odd reason, the statement left a very warm feeling in Brother Francis’s heart. 

“No! Don’t arrest him!” Brother Francis called dramatically. “It was me!”  
Warlock turned his head, also turning his fists which had again folded into a gun shape. He looked confused.  
“I framed him, don’t you see?”  
“Nanny!” Warlock whined. “What does fwamed mean?”  
“It means, darling, that this horrid man murdered Sir Cucumber and then made the evidence point to your butler.”  
“Oh.” Warlock seemed someone disappointed, before remembering that Brother Francis made him ask for cookies, and then he was alright. “So I get to kill him again?”  
“Yes.” Nanny replied. Warlock came charging at Francis, who bent down a bit and scooped the boy up. Warlock started to giggle.  
“That’s against the wules!” He laughed. “You can’t awwest me! That’s cheating! Nanny, he’s cheating!”  
“Cheat back!” Nanny Ashtoreth urged. “Call in backup, make it two against one!”  
“Hewp me!” Warlock laughed. Nanny came over, scooped him out of Francis’s arms, and set him back on the ground.  
“Cookies, then?” Francis asked.  
“Cookies!” Warlock shouted demandingly.


End file.
